Tuvix Too
by Singing Violin
Summary: An interlude between Tuvix and Resolutions. JC. Chapter 3 up now.
1. Tuvix 1

Title: Tuvix Too  
Series: Star Trek: Voyager  
Author: Singing Violin  
Rating: K+  
Keywords: Janeway/Chakotay friendship, Janeway/Tuvok friendship  
Summary: An interlude between "Tuvix" and "Resolutions"  
Disclaimer: TPTB own them, but they didn't do what I wanted with them, so I'm borrowing them for a bit. I'll give them back when I'm done.  
Feedback: Yes please.  
Archiving: Anywhere.

**Tuvok:**

I am reborn. I feel the transporter and I am new and whole again. It is a curious sensation. I had become accustomed to being one with the Talaxian, but now I welcome my newfound freedom.

The first thing I see with my own eyes is the captain. She has a most peculiar look on her face. In all the years I have known her, I have never seen that look. It is most disturbing. It would be illogical to do so, but if I were to make an emotional judgment, I suppose I might assess her mood as "haunted."

She greets me, and I look back at her, evenly. She is definitely happy to see me, but also, and quite alarmingly, disturbed by the sight of me. If I were to allow my emotions to surface, I suppose I would be saddened by the way she quickly exits Sickbay. Instead, I am only concerned. I consider what she has just done, and postulate that it may have a deleterious effect on her, especially given the things that I…that Tuvix said to her just a few minutes ago. I remember it all. I do not regret it, as the past cannot be changed, and therefore regret is illogical. However, I feel a responsibility to rectify any damage I have caused.

As soon as the doctor releases me, I send a quick text memo to Chakotay. I know he is on the bridge, and I do not want to risk an audio communiqué because humans, and especially my Captain, are very particular about privacy in these matters. The note is short and precise.

_To: Commander Chakotay  
From: Lieutenant Tuvok  
Neelix and I are individuals again and well. However, I believe the Captain may be in need of assistance. Ordinarily, I would approach her myself, but in this case, I believe that would be unwise._

I hope that the commander will understand my meaning and provide assistance as necessary. A ship with a "haunted" captain is most definitely a security risk. In addition, I do not wish my friend pain.

**Kathryn:**

I did what I had to do. I traded one life for two. As Tuvok and Neelix materialize on the biobed, relief washes over me, and I am glad to have my friends back. I tell them so.

However, the lingering dirty feeling inside of me, the result of what I have done, eats at my core. I feel the need to flee, and I quickly exit into the corridor. Luckily, it is empty, and for a moment I feel an overwhelming urge to cry.

Starfleet captains, however, do not cry, especially not as a result of the performance of their duties. To do so would be a weakness. As soon as a captain begins to question her decisions and actions, she is no longer an effective authority. So I swallow my regret, steel myself, and head to my quarters, allowing myself some time to regain my composure. I am not ready for the looks of accusation and hatred I may receive. I am not even ready for sympathy, if they support what I have done.

I did what I had to do. It is with this knowledge that I enter my quarters and sit on my couch. I grab a PADD, hoping to distract myself with work.

However, my thoughts return to Tuvix, to the man I just killed in cold blood, and to his disturbing words before he died. The accusation, his final acquiescence, and his assertion of forgiveness to all of us for what we were about to do. _Oh God, what have I done?_

Before I realize it, bile is rising in my throat. I run for the bathroom but I do not make it. My knees give way, and I am on all fours, soiling the rug with the contents of my stomach. It is too sudden for me to be ashamed.

**Chakotay:**

Tuvok's message is a warning. I can only imagine what the captain has just been through. I'm not sure I would have been able to make that choice, and I admire the tenacity she has shown once again with her determination. It is what makes her such a great leader, but underneath that authority figure, she is also human, and there was no right way to resolve our situation. Any human would have trouble reconciling whichever decision she made.

I briefly contact the doctor, who confirms Tuvok's news that Tuvok and Neelix are back. He also tells me something that affirms the sense of urgency I gleaned from Tuvok's note. The doctor refused to perform the operation. His ethical subroutines would not allow it. The captain had done it herself.

Judge, jury, and executioner. That is how she must see herself. This is why Tuvok is concerned, and he is right. I practically run to the turbolift, barely remembering to give Lieutenant Paris the bridge.

"Computer, locate Captain Janeway," I command.

"Captain Janeway is in her quarters," is the curt reply.

"Deck Three," I order.

When the turbolift arrives, I run again towards her quarters. I stop at her door briefly, and am about to ring the chime when I hear the sound of someone…of her…getting sick. I forgo the usual protocol and enter my command code to override the door.

What I see frightens me and breaks my heart. Our strong captain is on all fours, vomiting onto the rug. I run to her as the door swishes closed behind me. I fall to my knees beside her and put my hands on her shoulders, trying to offer as much comfort as I can without making her any more uncomfortable than she already is. I do not risk offering words of platitude; they will be hollow, and she will know it.

She does not push me away, and I wonder whether she even realizes I am present. When the heaving subsides, she is still for several minutes, and I keep my hands on her shoulders, letting her know I am there. Finally, she rises from the floor and my hands fall down to my sides. She does not look at me. Calmly, she walks to the couch and sits down as if nothing has happened, and I am terribly worried.

But I know that when she is ready, she will talk to me. At least she has not kicked me out of her quarters, nor shown any anger at my intrusion. Eying her, I rise from my knees, replicate a glass of water and some supplies, set the water on the coffee table, then return to the foul puddle on the rug and begin cleaning.

The first words out of her mouth are cold but reassuring. "You don't have to do that."


	2. Tuvix 2

Title: Tuvix Too  
Series: Star Trek: Voyager  
Author: Singing Violin  
Rating: K  
Keywords: Janeway/Chakotay friendship, Janeway/Tuvok friendship  
Summary: An interlude between "Tuvix" and "Resolutions"  
Disclaimer: TPTB own them, but they didn't do what I wanted with them, so I'm borrowing them for a bit. I'll give them back when I'm done.  
Feedback: Yes please.  
Archiving: Anywhere.

**Kathryn:**

I am too troubled by my own ethical battle to react to the fact that my second-in-command has just entered the privacy of my quarters and caught me during my weakest moment. He may think, from my lack of acknowledgement, that I do not know he is there. In fact, I knew the moment the door swished open who it would be, but I am merely too busy gagging to deal with the added complication to my current situation.

When my stomach finally quits its rebellion, I wait for it to settle, and I can feel his hands on my shoulders. I know he is attempting to offer comfort, but I cannot take it. I am feeling too inhuman. I do not speak to him, because whatever words I utter will be hollow, and he will know it.

Instead, I remove myself from the floor and return to the couch, deliberately refusing to acknowledge him, hoping he will just go away.

But he doesn't. Damn him. Why is he treating me with such concern, when I clearly do not deserve it? I am a murderer…he should be locking me in the brig…

And then he has set a glass of water in front of me, and begun cleaning. He is cleaning up my mess. It occurs to me that this is far and beyond the call of duty, even if I were not the embodiment of evil right now.

So I make the decision to speak, although it comes out far more flatly than I intend. "You don't have to do that."

He looks up, but his only response is to smile sadly at me and continue what he is doing. I am too conflicted to do anything but sit and watch and mull over my previous actions.

Finally, he resurfaces. "I think that's the best I can do," he says. "I'm sorry, Captain, but I think it's going to leave a stain. We could replace the carpet…"

I interrupt him. "Leave it," I order. I want the stain, to remind me of what I have done. It matches the stain on my conscience. Though perhaps I don't have a conscience any more. What was I thinking? I can't believe I was able to go through with it. I think, at the time, I had given myself an order and deliberately didn't question it until it was carried out. Now, however, I am free to question my decision, and I do not like it. I do not like it at all. I must be punished…

I am snapped out of my reverie by the beep of a communicator. Instinctively, I reach up, but the call is not for me. Chakotay is kneeling at my feet, and it is he who must answer. "Lieutenant Tuvok to Commander Chakotay," I hear, and the sound feels as if it is coming through a room full of cotton balls.

**Tuvok:**

I return to my quarters after sending the message from sickbay, and after some time meditating to reacquaint myself with my new individuality, I must say I am anxious to return to duty.

I hope that Commander Chakotay has checked on the captain, and that she is fine, though my instincts tell me otherwise. "Computer, locate Commander Chakotay," I order. "Commander Chakotay is in Captain Janeway's quarters," the computer replies. Indeed, the commander has gone to check on the captain, but if everything were all right, they would both have returned to the bridge by now.

I do not wish to interrupt them, but the ship needs a leader on the bridge – no doubt Commander Chakotay would have left hastily, and left the ship in the hands of whomever was available. Without permission, I cannot return to duty. Logic dictates that I must contact the commander, and so I do.

"Lieutenant Tuvok to Commander Chakotay," I tell the communicator.

After a moment, he answers. "Chakotay here. What is it Mr. Tuvok?"

"Commander, I am sorry to disturb you." It is important that I acknowledge that I am invading his and the captain's privacy; otherwise the meaning behind my original note may be called into question.

"That's okay, Mr. Tuvok. What can I do for you?" he answers. Analyzing the fluctuations in his voice, I surmise that he is worried. However, there is nothing I can do at this time to ease that worry, so I, to use a human expression, get straight to the point.

"Permission to return to duty, Commander," I ask.

"Yes, of course, Tuvok, we're glad to have you back," is his reply.

"Thank you, Commander," I acknowledge, and I leave them to whatever they are doing. Hopefully it is therapeutic. I can take command of the bridge for now, but I do not command this vessel. _Voyager_ is not complete without the undivided attention of its captain.

**Chakotay:**

I am hopeful when she speaks, and in acknowledgement, I attempt to smile at her, to reassure her. I don't think it works, though, especially because I am sure that my current state of inner panic is overwhelming my acting ability, and so I doubt anyone would be convinced by the show. But I make the effort anyway, before I return to cleaning.

Somehow it makes me feel better to clean up. I feel as if I am repairing something. Ordinarily, I'd be disgusted by this task, but right now, it makes me feel useful. I have no idea what to say to her to ease her inner turmoil, evident by her body's own betrayal. But cleaning the puddle on the floor is easy, so I do that instead.

It occurs to me as I finish that the cleaning is not thorough, that the only way to exorcise the stain will be to replace the carpet. I admit this out loud to the captain, and her reply is immediate and harsh. "Leave it," she says. It is in the tone of an order, one I dare not disobey.

I pick up the soiled supplies and dump them into the recycler, and when I return, kneeling beside her, I can see a thousand emotions flickering across her face. I can't make them out, but I'm willing to bet guilt is a big one. I wish there was something I could say to snap her out of it. I want to take her hands in mine and press them to my lips and tell her that she is still human, that she has done the best thing, but I remain silent and aloof, not wanting to intrude where I am not wanted.

I have only known this extraordinary woman for two years, and I don't really know how she will react, especially in this mood that I have never witnessed before. I wish Tuvok could be here instead, for his experience with the captain would allow him to better anticipate the best course of action, but I am also glad that he is part of the problem this time, so that I can have a chance to take care of her. I want her to trust me, to rely on me. I am here for her, as her first officer, and as her friend, and perhaps, some day, something more. Maybe one day she will even realize that, but for now, I am thankful for this small opportunity.

Meanwhile, as I study her face and contemplate what to say to her to bring her out of her shell, I am interrupted by the beep of my communicator.

It is Tuvok. Doesn't he know I am busy? It was he who sent me on this mission. I am worried for a moment that there has been some sort of ship's disaster, but the ensuing conversation reminds me that it is a simple matter of his return to duty. I am relieved, and something about his words makes me suspect that the reason he dared to interrupt me now was in order to take the bridge and allow me as much time as I need to make sure the captain is okay.

In fact, I realize that Tuvok has acted almost emotionally in this matter. Could it just be the after effects of being joined with the emotional Talaxian, or is it something more? I wonder if the quiet Vulcan, beneath all the cold logic and calculations, cares for her as much as I do.


	3. Tuvix 3

Title: Tuvix Too  
Series: Star Trek: Voyager  
Author: Singing Violin  
Rating: K+  
Keywords: Janeway/Chakotay friendship, Janeway/Tuvok friendship  
Summary: An interlude between "Tuvix" and "Resolutions"  
Disclaimer: TPTB own them, but they didn't do what I wanted with them, so I'm borrowing them for a bit. I'll give them back when I'm done.  
Feedback: Yes please.  
Archiving: Anywhere.

**Kathryn:**

Images race unbidden through my mind. Kes, in my arms, crying for the loss of Neelix. Tuvok, looking slightly discomfited at rematerializing in Sickbay. Neelix, grabbing hold of Kes as if to never let her go. Tuvix, smiling as he cooks me dinner…

…a dinner which just ended up all over my floor.

My hand goes to my mouth, and for a moment, I think I may be sick again. I raise my eyes to discover my first officer, looking as concerned as ever, and it is enough distraction to startle me out of my reverie.

His eyes question me even as I question myself. The same thought repeats incessantly in my mind …_what have I done?_

_She was crying…_

I don't realize I've said that out loud until Chakotay answers, "who?"

"Kes," I answer, "she…I couldn't let her cry…I had to fix it…"

I haven't been this incoherent since my failed date with Will Riker. And to make it worse, I am scaring Chakotay. He looks positively stricken. But he does not speak again; he is waiting for me to continue.

_Get a hold of yourself, Kathryn_. I take a deep breath, only now realizing what I am trying to say…to him, and to myself.

"I killed a man to pacify an Ocampan child," I utter, disgusted with myself all over again. "There is no other excuse."

Suddenly, I know what I must do.

"Chakotay, I'm handing over command of _Voyager_ to you. I can't be trusted to…"

He interrupts me.

**Chakotay:**

It takes me a moment to realize that she has finally spoken, as it is barely a murmur from her lips. It is another moment before I parse the almost inaudible sound.

"She was crying," Kathryn had said.

"Who?" I prompt, hoping to get her to talk this out.

"Kes," she answers before muttering nearly incoherently about wanting to make her stop. Before I can think of a reply, I see my captain visibly attempt to compose herself before continuing, and my admiration for her is renewed.

But the words that she utters are hardly comforting. Before I know it, she is attempting to resign, leaving me in command of the ship…

A year ago, I would have jumped at the opportunity, but now, I know what a disaster that would be.

"No," I interrupt her. "I won't accept." I know I am risking brig time for insubordination, but she isn't acting very captainlike right now, and it's very possible she'll overlook my misbehavior.

She doesn't.

I find myself face to face with the glare she gives evil aliens before she destroys them.

I gulp.

**Kathryn:**

My first officer has just interrupted and disobeyed me. I won't tolerate it. I stand even as he crouches, deliberately positioning myself to loom over him.

"Then I shall relieve you of duty first, Commander," I hiss, suddenly extremely angry, "and then hand the ship over to Tuvok."

He purses his lips for a moment, contemplating something. I expect him to argue with me, to rise from the floor and shake me, something…

Instead, he just nods and smiles.

**Chakotay:**

I contemplate whether to let her know that Tuvok is as concerned as I, that it is he who has sent me here. However, that would betray his confidence and potentially undermine our operation. I opt instead to point out the obvious.

"He won't accept your resignation either, _Captain_," I state firmly, putting extra emphasis on her title, as if to say, "you're not ridding yourself of your responsibilities that easily."

Her glare intensifies, perhaps because she knows what I say is true.

"There's got to be someone aboard this ship…" she starts, but falters, her voice trailing into oblivion. She collapses back onto the couch, spent, her head falling into her hands, and for a moment, I think she will cry.

She looks back up at me, and indeed, her eyes are sparkling…but it is with a look I have come to cherish as a rare gem from our steely captain. It is soft, warm, and inviting, and the voice she raises is textured to match.

"You're right, of course," she concedes.

Then she begins to talk…to really talk. I can only listen to the stream-of-consciousness diatribe and wait. As she speaks, I marvel again at her capacity for self-healing. Just a few minutes ago, she was a wreck, and now, she is almost back to the captain I have learned to follow without question. It is just a matter of time before she will regain her composure completely, leaving me out of her thought processes…so I treasure this moment while it lasts.


End file.
